Broken Promises and Healed Hearts
by hipeople24
Summary: Lahar has always respected Doranbolt. He was like a pillar, strong and unyielding in his beliefs. Yet, one pesky guild has ruined everything. Now, Doranbolt's foundation has crumbled, leaving Lahar to pick up the shattered pieces of the grieving man. Will he be able to piece his best friend back together or will he be dragged into the abyss with him?
1. Chapter 1

Lahar strode purposely into the bar, not paying any heed to those that he bumped into. There was no time for simple formalities, he was wasting his time here enough as it was. A finger untangled itself from the confines of his white sleeve, rising to push his glasses to the bridge of his nose. With his sight renewed, he let his eyes sweep the room, only stopping their search when he saw the figure hunched over the bar.

Wasting no time, Lahar changed his path, heading straight towards the bar. As he marched, the faint sound of irate mumbles could be heard escaping his tightly pursed lips. Anger radiated in waves off of him, the force of his frustration almost tangible to the numerous bar-dwellers that surrounded him. Hastily, drunken patrons stumbled backwards, not wanting to receive his wrath. The only person that didn't seem to notice him was the reason for Lahar's murderous intent.

"Damn idiot. It's been 2 years already, you would think he would just let it go by now, but noooooo. Mr. pissy is too good to get on with his fucking life." Lahar hissed angrily, unable to control the rage boiling inside of him. With each step he took, he felt his irritation at his junior increase exponentially. His bad mood wasn't helped by the long fringe of his robe, constantly being abused by the crushing weight of his feet trampling all over the white hem. "Gah, I fucking HATE this thing. Why can't the council give us practical uniforms? These girly dresses do nothing more than get in my way. How do they expect us to chase down criminals while tripping over our damn feet every 5 seconds?"

True to his angry ranting, his foot caught in the cloth, causing Lahar to stumble into the object that all his hatred stemmed from. He caught himself on the man's shoulder, fingers digging tightly into his red t-shirt. The drunken man spun around, protesting irately at the man clinging to his shoulder. "Heey, Whacha doin'? Watch where ya walkin', ya dumbass."

At Doranbolt's thoughtless disregard of his superiority, Lahar's temper flared even brighter and his fingers dug even harder into the drunk's shoulder, drawing a hiss of pain from the man beneath his grasp.

Lahar sucked in a deep breath, attempting to reign in his rage. If he lost his temper and simply yelled at Doranbolt, a fight would ensue. As much as he wanted to beat the shit out of Doranbolt, he couldn't risk hurting the man, lest anger him so much that he would be unable to fulfill the mission, personally assigned by Guran Doma.

"I did watch where I was walking. It just so happened that I was walking toward you, Doranbolt." Lahar leveled a gaze at the bedraggled man, daring him to speak to him in another disrespectful tone. "Now, if you are done drowning your sorrows in cheap liquor, I have a proposition for you."

Doranbolt shrugged his shoulder, shaking Lahar's loosened grip off of the appendage. Grasping a beer in his hand and taking a swig, he replied, "I ain't interested, Lahar. Go bother someone who actually gives a shit 'bout this damned country and leave me to drink in peace."

Lahar intercepted the drunk's hand, fingers clasping tightly to the alcohol-weakened hand. "I'm not giving you an option. This is an order. Get your drunk ass out of this bar so that we can discuss the mission details in a more secluded area." To emphasize his point, Lahar tipped the hand with the beer, sending frothy liquid splattering across the bar's dirty floor. To his disgust, some spilled onto his uniform, staining the pristine white a muddy-yellow color that closely resembled urine. He wrinkled his nose, but otherwise made no outward signs of his repugnance. It was his own negligence that got his robe dirty, so making a scene about it would simply be melodramatic. Besides, the aghast face that Doranbolt made was highly amusing, making the endeavor entirely worth a little dry cleaning.

Lahar pulled the stunned man to his feet, an action made easy by the combination of shock and the amount of alcohol clouding his system. He dragged the protesting man out the door, throwing down enough Jewels to cover the cost of Doranbolt's drinks twice over. The bartender gave Lahar a cautious smile of gratitude before shoving the newly-attained money into his pockets. Amusement glinted in Lahar's violet eyes as he watched the greedy antics of the bartender. It was to be expected from someone of his class. Generally, the bartender had to hassle the drinker to pay up rather than the customer paying over twice the amount of the money that was due.

Oh well. It wasn't like Lahar had any need for that much money anyway. He almost never used it, leaving it to pile up in long-forgotten corners of his house. He would count this as his good deed for the day.

A small smirk had begun to tug at his lips, only to be interrupted by a weak moan of protest, emanating from Doranbolt. "Hey, if you're gonna drag me to god knows where, at least try not to drop me. The way you've been acting today, I'd say that you're the drunk one."

"I am most certainly not drunk. I am simply realizing the stupidity behind these preposterous robes." Lahar sniffed indignantly, whilst purposely jostling Doranbolt more than necessary. The action did not go unnoticed by Doranbolt, who squirmed from Lahar's grasp as soon as he felt the grip around his wrist loosen minutely. When he reclaimed movement of his wrist, he shook out his hand, wincing at the joints that popped from the sudden change of position.

"Whatever ya say, boss. Let's jus' get this thing over with so I can get back ta the bar."

"Oh no you don't." Lahar snapped, his already thin patience wearing down to the core. "You are restricted from touching any alcohol until we complete this assignment."

"But what if I dun wanna do it?" Doranbolt whined, looking piteously behind him, as if hoping that the bar would be right behind him, bartender offering another drink to the already inebriated man.

"My asking you is just a formality. I'm forcing you to do this, whether or not you want to. So suck it up and deal with it. Quit acting like a child." The second Lahar spoke those words, he noticed the guilt that crossed Doranbolt's face. It was as if all life had been sucked from his eyes, leaving the blue depths shallow and empty.

"She was just a child. Did you know that she was only 12 years old when she…" Doranbolt choked back a strangled sob, turning away from where Lahar, who stood watching the entire ordeal with ill-disguised discomfort.

"Look, Doranbolt…" Lahar began, guilt swirling in his gut. As ridiculous as Doranbolt's sustained grieving period was, it was still a grieving period. Lahar just hadn't realized the scope of Doranbolt's vulnerability.

This was completely out of character for Doranbolt. What had happened to the strong, dependable man that Lahar had worked alongside for years? How could one little incident, one little girl, so drastically change the life of a man that was once as strong and solid as the island that had been depreciated by Acnologia?

"Please, Lahar, let me go back." Doranbolt murmured, still turned away from Lahar. "I…I can't deal with this all by myself. I need…" He swayed precariously, alcohol and grief swirling together in a single moment of pure exhaution. Lahr attempted to grab onto the staggering man, but Doranbolt simply shook his outstretched hand away. Doranbolt slid against the nearest wall, body weight supported by the rough brick. He slid down, head cradled in his hands and unabashed tears slipping down his face.

Lahar could only stare in abject horror as his blue eyes fluttered shut and his breathing became deeper. The tears still streamed down his face, but even so, it was obvious that the smaller man had fallen asleep.

"Oh, Doranbolt, what am I going to do with you?" He muttered, swinging Doranbolt over his shoulder with ease. For the second time that day, Lahar was dragging Doranbolt, although this instance was much more irritating than the previous time.

He walked carefully, attempting not to jostle the sleeping man. Even the fringe of his robe stayed out of his path as he heaved Doranbolt to a nearby hotel. Lahar threw a few Jewels at the astounded desk clerk, demanding a room. The girl simply nodded at him, handing him a key card with room 208 written in big black marker.

Lahar wasted no time getting change from the woman, eager to get Doranbolt off his back. With large strides, he marched towards the room, stopping in front of an ornate gold door. It would seem he paid yet another excessive amount of money, if this was what he had gotten with the bills he threw around.

He shifted his weight, shoving the key in the slot, relieved when it opened on his first try. It was against his nature to waste time fiddling with idiotic things. When he got in the room, he laid the unconcious man on the nearest bed, pulling the sheets over his catamacose body.

Lahar let out a deep sigh, his gaze drifting to the sleeping man sprawled out on the mattress. There was no use in waking him up now. Lahar could always brief him on the mission details tomorrow morning. For now, he would simply let Doranbolt sleep off the alcohol that swirled in his system. Maybe he would be easier to reason with in the morning.

"Sleep tight, Doranbolt. This will be the last time for a while that you get to sleep in a comfortable bed."

_A/N. Now, why am I the first one to post a Lahar x Doranbolt story? It always seemed to be an obvious pairing to me, since they are always shown together. Even in my Doranbolt x Wendy story, Lahar is a major part of Doranbolt's life. There is a lack of love for these two and I am going to change that. _

_Well, there is a major lack of yaoi pairings in Fairy Tail in general. I get that there are a lot of girl characters in Fairy Tail to pair the boys up with, but it's no fun that way. Where are the boy x boy stories? Give me yaoi or give me death!_

_Okay, I'm done ranting now. Enjoy the rest of your day, good people. I'll be back with more Lahar x Doranbolt soon._


	2. Chapter 2

Doranbolt awoke to the sound of a shower running. The noise seemed to pierce his head, starbursts of pain dug into his skull with every cascade of water against porcelain. He let out a moan, the physical manifestation of the pain throbbing inside of his head. It would be reasonable to conclude that he had drank an excessive amount of alcohol last night, if the pounding in his head was any inclination. Now, if he could just get whoever was showering in his bathroom to shut up…

Wait a second. Showering in his bathroom? Where was he? Bleary blue eyes drifted around the unfamiliar room, much too expensive for anything he could afford. And he sure as hell didn't remember going anywhere with anyone. Fuck. What had happened the night before? Doranbolt just prayed that in his drunken exuberance he hadn't knocked some poor girl up.

Doranbolt was so focused on attempting to regain his missing memories that he was unaware of the shower shutting off; nor was he aware of the figure that was hastily making its way out of the steam, clothed in nothing but a white hotel towel.

Abrupt silence filled the room as Doranbolt finally noticed the man walking towards the other bed that also occupied the room. "L…Lahar? What are _you_ doing here?"

While replacing his absent Rune Knight robe, the other man let out a disdainful sniff, eyes narrowing at his colleague. "Actually, if you must know, _I_ brought _you_ here, directly after you passed out on the side of the road like the drunk that you are. If it weren't for my intervention, you would still be nursing a hangover in some dark alleyway." Doranbolt could only stare in further confusion as Lahar fumbled around for his uncharacteristically absent glasses. As he slipped them over the bridge of his nose, his narrowed amethyst gaze finally meet Doranbolt's own questioning one. Another small huff escaped the tall man before his says in a haughty voice, "It would be like you to simply forget everything due to simple inebriation."

This time, it was Doranbolt's turn to get offended by his superior's words. "Believe it or not, you are not at the forefront of my mind. Actually, I haven't even seen you in 2 years, so you are the farthest thing from my conscious mind. So get over yourself and tell me what the hell's going on."

Fire flashed in Lahar's eyes, stunning Doranbolt into silence. "I never asked for you to think about me in every waking moment. After all, the only thing that you ever think about is that damn guild." His tone was ice cold, sending shivers down Doranbolt's spine. "News flash, Doranbolt. They are all dead. They died when Zeref called to Acnologia and had him annihilate Tenroujima. Now, get your head out of your ass and start acting like a man. It's time to suck it up and face reality, Doranbolt."

"No." It came out as a whisper, barely audible to even himself. Doranbolt felt his chest constrict; his breathing became labored and his breath came out in short pants. He felt Lahar's gaze, but he was too far gone with shock to care about preserving his reputation. All that he could feel was the splinters of ice that were clawing their way into his chest, piercing through every one of his already crumbling defenses. "No"

Doranbolt was sure that Lahar said something, but the roaring in his ears made any words incoherent. Blood pounded in his head, his hangover amplified by a hundred percent. He felt a weak groan slip from his lips, the pain, both emotional and physical, too much to be contained in his body.

A hand on his shoulder stilled his quivering body. Doranbolt looked up, only to lock gazes with amethyst eyes, filled with an unidentifiable emotion. "Stop, Doranbolt." Lahar's voice was nothing more than a whisper drifting past Doranbolt's ears. Something in the way that Lahar spoke seemed so… heart wrenching.

It wasn't until the flow of tears subsided that he realized that he had been crying. A quick sniffle and a steeling of his expression was all that it took to block off the overflow of his vulnerability. His mind slowly came back, and with it his sense of self.

Oh god. He had just had a mental breakdown in front of his boss. "Lahar, I…"

The other man cut him off with a curt squeeze to the shoulder. Doranbolt sucked in a breath, expecting his superior to scold him for his weakness. When Lahar removed his hand, Doranbolt couldn't help the flinch that wracked his body. Violet eyes narrowed, their gaze boring into azure-ringed pupils that dilated with fear. Lahar let out a sigh and looked away from the trembling man that lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Doranbolt, when you are feeling better, please meet me downstairs. We have an urgent matter to discuss regarding our latest mission. I will be at the breakfast bar, so please join me when you regain sense." Doranbolt could only stare blankly as Lahar swept out of the room, the delicate fringe of his robe rustling behind him.

For a few moments, the only action that Doranbolt was capable of was staring transfixed at the now vacant doorway. A small huff and the lowering of tensed shoulders was the first move that Doranbolt made after Lahar left. This was followed closely by the extension of his legs as he walked over to the bathroom. A quick look in the elaborate mirror caused him to wince at the gaunt, haunted face that stared back at him.

He wrenched his gaze from his reflection and forced on cleaning up the best he could while still wearing his clothes from last night. Doranbolt sighed, toweling off his face before heading out of the room. With one last reproachful look, he too left the excessively lavish room.


	3. Chapter 3

Lahar couldn't help but tap his fingers in agitation. He understood the importance of letting Doranbolt compose himself before discussing work-related matters, but Lahar had never claimed to be a patient man, by any stretch of the imagination.

Well, if Lahar was being completely honest with himself, the reason for his impatience stemmed from a tiny bit of anxiety. In truth, he regretted his earlier words, spoken with such unabashed cruelty. The guilt was clawing at him, and he dreaded seeing the other man's face. Although his words were true, they did not need to be said to blatantly.

Lahar sighed, dragging his fingers through the limp black strands that hung loosely around his face. In his haste to escape his junior, he had forgotten to put his hair up in its trademark bun. It seemed that Doranbolt made everything more difficult. Oh well. Maybe Lahar needed a little disorder in his otherwise perfectionistic life.

Lahar shook his head at the stray thought. He had worked his whole life to get to this point. One chaotic, mentally injured man could ruin it all.

Or, just maybe, his unpredictability could fill the constant void inside Lahar's chest. At that thought, Lahar couldn't stop the scoff that escaped his lips. There was no way that Doranbolt could do anything for Lahar. He couldn't even keep his sanity without a large dose of alcohol numbing his senses.

As if Lahar's thoughts had summoned him, Doranbolt chose that moment to enter the breakfast area. He looked terrible, although his attempt to clean himself up was apparent. It wasn't simply the disarray of his clothes that made him look horrible, it was his eyes. They looked dull, as if all emotion had been drained from his cerulean gaze. Seeing Doranbolt look broken and weak had Lahar's chest painfully spasming, as if trying to feel the pain that Doranbolt felt.

Doranbolt sat down at the table, eyes boring relentlessly into Lahar's. He didn't get food from the buffet area; he didn't even spare it a glance. All that he did was stare listlessly into Lahar's eyes, as if expecting an answer to his unanswered questions.

It made Lahar feel uneasy. He wasn't used to people looking in the eye. Most of the people he dealt with were either criminals or other council members, both of which refused to maintain steady eye contact with him. Doranbolt especially fell into the latter category. Especially after Tenroujimma, Doranbolt had diligently avoided his gaze, refusing to let the hatred and anger towards Lahar show in his eyes. Lahar knew of it, of course. He rarely missed the small nuances that afflicted his subordinates. He had simply let the distain slide, thinking that with time, the anger would fade.

While Lahar wished that Doranbolt's hateful emotions would vanish, he had never wished for the emotionless gaze that he now received. Once again, guilt flooded him, bringing with it a cold sensation that slowly built in his stomach. Lahar simply wanted Doranbolt to say _something _to break the tense silence.

"So, why do you want me again, after all these years?" Doranbolt inquired, gaze still fixated on Lahar.

Relief washed through Lahar. With the silence broken, he could focus on informing Lahar of his mission. "We have an assignment. This comes directly from Guran Doma and he told me to bring one capable officer with me in order to help me with my investigation.

"Wait. If he told you to choose someone, then why did it have to be me? There are a lot of other people that are more suitable to help with an investigation. Besides, I formally requested a leave of absence. I'm not technically in the Rune Knights right now." Dornbolt protested.

"I chose you because of the nature of your magic. None of my other subordinates would have been as useful as you will be. Besides…" Lahar folded his hands, leaning in towards the other man. "…It was either that, or you would have a permanent leave of absence."

Doranbolt's eyes narrowed. "Lahar, are you threatening me?"

Lahar pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, the lenses glinting menacingly as he did so. "Doranbolt, you should know by now that I do not threaten. My words are always backed by my actions."

A scoff flew from Doranbolt's lips. "Don't mess with words, Lahar. My patience is wearing thin. You know I have no desire to partake in word games."

"Then I shall 'cut to the chase'. A dark guild has stolen a critical document from the council's database. We are to retrieve the classified documents and erase the guild member's memories regarding the information. And, above all, the public cannot know that the council has had a security breach, so all operations must be done out of the public eye." Lahar assessed Doranbolt's reactions from behind his glasses. When Doranbolt made no move to interject in his tale, Lahar continued. "That is where you come in. I need you to sneak into the guild and steal the documents without any of the guild members noticing. With your memory magic, you'll be able to…"

"No way! I refuse!" Doranbolt shouted, fists smashing into the table in a shower of woodchips. He stood up, fists trembling from suppressed rage. All around them, spectators stared in a mixture of fear and curiosity, braced for a fight between the two men. Azure eyes blazed furiously as Doranbolt unclenched his jaw to speak. His voice was a husky growl, rage seething in his tone. "There's no way that you expect me to do that again. The last time that you made me infiltrate a guild…" Doranbolt's voice trailed up, his eyes becoming glassy and unfocused. He continued to speak, but it was in a string of nonsensical phrases.

The murmur of gossiping voices swelled in Lahar's ears and he felt the sudden urge to protect his subordinate from the stares that were directed at him. Without thinking, he yanked on the immobile man, pulling him from the room in a whirlwind of swishing white robes. He led Doranbolt back into their room, tossing him into the bed. Doranbolt barely reacted to the quick change of surroundings, continuing to mutter inaudibly to himself.

Lahar let out a breath that he didn't know that he was holding, bringing up a hand to rest his chin in. He needed to rethink his plan for retrieving those documents. Doranbolt would still play a crucial role, however, Lahar couldn't risk him retreating back inside himself during the mission.

Lahar sighed as he felt the stirrings of a headache gather at the back of his skull. Already one day into the mission and he already felt like it was too much for him to handle. He could hardly imagine how the next few weeks would play out.

Violet eyes darted to the shattered man lying on the bed. Yes, Lahar definitely had his work cut out for him.

_A/N. Yay. Another chapter. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Long story short, my laptop committed suicide, so I have to write on my downstairs computer. Well, that would be fine, except for the fact that my parents are super conservative homophobes. So, basically, I have to steal my little sister's laptop in order to write this story until I can save up enough money to purchase a new laptop. So, to my wonderful readers, don't worry, I am not abandoning this story. It will just take a bit longer than I expected to write this. Sorry for the trouble. _


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